Light Conversation: Dance Until Dawn
'Whitehaven (Exchange District) ' ::''Known locally as the "Grand Exchange", Whitehaven is considered to be the central-most district of the city of Light's Reach, being little more of unique interest than a collision of overspill from the Noble District of Starmantle to the north, and the Freelander District of Redwater to the south. ::''Thus it is not uncommon to see red-brick and flax-stone estates across from half-timber and white-stucco townhouses, with minor Nobles forced to endure living as neighbors to successful merchants. The social divide is still quite obvious, but suffering the injustice of having to live in a mansion across the road from a family of Freelanders is often considered worth it to by most just to say that they live in Light's Reach. ::''It is the middle of the district from which the term "Grand Exchange" comes, however, for it is here that a large ring-road can be found surrounding the rebuilt Mikin Hall, connecting to the main through-fares that runs from the districts to the north, east, and south. It is around this ring-road that the Whitehaven Stables can be found, as well as the Interdistrict Carriage Hub and the headquarters for the Fastheld Courier Service's cavalry and distribution network. ::''The road heads up a gentle slope as it heads west towards Dawnstar Keep, ascending to the elevated western rise upon which the Keep, the Temple of the White Dragon, and the Southern Aria reside. ---- A subtle chaos shades this dark night, even within the empty streets of Light's Reach. Though the ressurected city sits quiet atop its plateau, the rest of the night seethes restlessly around it. A strong wind howls over the bulwarks, moaning as it sweeps across empty streets and deserted alleyways. Overhead, thick white clouds dance across the surface of the twin Torches, such that even the moonlight is in turmoil. The quiet shadow of a small man stands apart from the tall, pristine buildings, a dark splotch against the white plaster of a modest merchant rowhouse. The shadow is as still as the building it leans against, though its edges quiver tremulously with the gusting winds. Bands of yellow hair whip around a serene face; a small girl emerges from the stretches of shadows that surround the Temple behind her. Before her is another, she soon realizes; she blinks slowly and smiles, moving forward and peering through the shadows to confirm her suspicion. Those very familiar words reach her lips as she slows: "Is it Syton Temple?" "I don't know, is it?" For a moment, the clouds part to bathe the shadow's pale face and blue eyes in the light of both moons. Syton smiles at Milora and stands up off the building. He bows deeply, languid and formal, to the young noblewoman. He straightens quietly and takes two steps towards Milora before speaking. "How does the Light find you this evening, Lady Mily?" Syton asks in a thin and dreamy tone. "It is! Very well, thank you," Milora sighs, shaking her head and leaning against the wall. She shakes back her long curls and looks up at the sky, still batting her eyes as though tired. "Syton, Syton, Syton. I think you are almost my very best friend right now, do you know? I should always listen to you." Syton chuckles darkly, folding his arms across his chest. When he speaks again, it is in a voice more solid and volatile than before. "I find a great pity welling up within myself," Syton says, "that such a thing as /I/ should be your best friend and wisest counselor." His voice is an odd mixture of curiosity, amusement, and bitterness; it shifts with each word, consistent only in its uncertainty. "But you've some answers at least, I hope?" Frowning, Milora moves to put her hand on Syton's arm. "You mustn't talk like that. I am madly in platonic love with you, and it's because I think you're kind and wise." Pausing, she shrugs her shoulders and withdraws. "I have direction, which is better than any answer. I might have as well asked you, Syton, because you and His Grace think so similarly. Will you stay close to me in case I require guidance again?" She smiles, and then catches sight of Lucius. "Look, another familiar face," she says quietly. "Hmmm," is Syton's only reply to Milora. He gives her a puzzled look--skeptical, disbelieving. He turns away crisply at Lucius's arrival. A slight smile forms on the young freelander's face and he inclines his head briefly to the new arrival. "Good evening, Lucius," he greets with meager enthusiasm. Lucius Nepos's eyebrows shoot up as Milora and Syton come into view, but his surprised expression is soon replaced by a happy one. "Ah, two of my favourites. Syton, with his sarcastic wit and his wisdom beyond years and Milora with her innocence and dedication. Wonderful. How does the night find you two?" A moment is spared to look gently at Syton before Milora turns to the newcomer. "Innocence, Lucius?" Milora smiles. "I suppose so, but don't be quite so quick. I feel ... oh, my, quite beyond anything. I feel as though I could dance. In fact!" With that said, she steps forward and spins on her toe, then moves to take Lucius' hand. Syton pats his armor, as though searching for something, and smirks between Lucius and Milora. "I would play a rousing tune, but alas, I've left my piano back in Hawk's Aerie," he says. His gaze then settles on Lucius and he nods encouragingly. "You've bartered with Drakes, Lucius, so I expect you have the courage to dance with a Lady, even one so splendid as this." "Rolling her eyes, Milora turns and offers her hand instead to Syton. "Splendid, am I? No doubt divinely beautiful and dazzlingly clever to boot. Really, Syton, you're practically a bard. Take my hand and relieve Lucius of the first dance, won't you?" "Tenacious, at least," Syton replies, laughing nervously. He seems reluctant, to agree to the dance too swiftly, but he does not turn the noblewoman away outright, either. The young freelander runs a hand through his hair and looks away from Mily for a moment. He mutters something incoherent, along the lines of, "I... well... uh..." Teasing, Milora quirks an eyebrow. "But you were so amused a moment ago when you encouraged Master /Nepos/ to engage me," she protests in a falsetto, breaking into a grin. "Come on, Syton, shyness will get you nowhere. I'm not that much taller than you are! -- and anyway, I am probably no prettier on my feet than you are." She curls her fingers upward invitingly. Lucius Nepos smirks at the both of them. "It's good to have friends who are comical enough to relieve my mind of Amalai. She's quite ready to give birth at this point, bursting at the seams. Happy we're to move here, as well." He steers the topic away, after that. "She's right you know!" Syton narrows his blue eyes at Milora, frowning at her and huffing indignantly. In the end, though, he reaches a hand out for Mily's. "What kind of dance?" he asks warily, "because I am likely to break your foot with anything too fast... or complicated... or long..." "Whatever kind! We'll make it up as we go along!" Mily laughs, taking Syton's hand and spinning around him very much like a Maypole. She smiles at Lucius, sighing audibly. "Your wife looked like a soap bubble about to pop when I saw her, and then she wasn't even very far along. Three cheers for babies, and I hope it's a little boy, a very big and very strong little boy who grows up to be just like his papa. Oh, dear, actually, I don't like that much. Make sure he gets some of Amalai in him, if he's a boy." Still laughing, and almost breathless, Milora moves to put her hand on Syton's shoulder and affect something like a dance step. "I hope he gets some of her too, though she's convinced it’s a girl. But in any case, they'll need a bit of Amalai to make sure they're not so dour and serious all the time." Lucius says, grinning broadly at the prospect of being a father. He watches the two of them dance in an amused manner. "Umm..." Syton is unable to participate in the conversation or the dance. He just stands there, blinking dumbly as he watches the young noble dance around him. It actually looks, once or twice, like he is about to leave. In the end, however, is unable to tear himself away from Milora, and as she attempts a more formal dance step, he falls into it hesitantly. With great care and deliberation, he even places a hand on the small of her back, all the while appearing uncertain, nervous, and pained. Her face softening somewhat, Milora giggles lightly and Syton and draws back from him, locking her fingers with his if she can. "Alright. This one's very simple - two steps to your right and then one to the left, and then one forward with your right foot. Just let me do the work, alright?" She moves to lead Syton, smiling into his face as she answers Lucius. "Men in Fastheld are all a little too serious and uncertain," she agrees. "This is no good, because the women are no more confident." "See, I could never do that." Lucius says, voice lamenting the fact. "I only know two dances. One is a collection of fast ones that work well around a fire or in a tavern. The other is horizontal." He leaves the rest unsaid, pulling some water from a skin. He shrugs. "Well, most of us citizens are pretty rowdy. Maybe just the tradesmen and soldiers, though. Those academics among us are as boring as the rocks that make up the Aegis." "I'm just wearing the wrong shoes, is all..." Syton grumbles beneath his breath. Still, a hint of humor has peeked through the clouds. He glances to Lucius, rolls his eyes, then looks back to Milora and nods dutifully. He focuses on his feet carefully. "Two steps right. One left. One forward." Though he obviously has no idea what he is going, young Syton does a reasonable job at it. Milora's feet only get stepped on four or five times, and only lightly on the edges. Nodding her head, Milora-in-leather-boots smiles at Syton encouragingly. "You dance divinely," she promises, not bothered by the trodding of her well-protected feet. "The horizontal waltz?" she inquires mildly over her shoulder. "I have heard of that. Honestly, Lucius, the things you do and say in front of women." "Probably because of your social status and my marital status, you've no real idea what I do and say in front of women." Answers Lucius with a bit of a smirk on his face, looking up at the sky for a prolonged moment to determine the time. "I better be off to take care of my wife. And sleep. That too." "Give her my best..." Syton offers his distracted well-wishes, glancing over to Lucius briefly between steps. The brief break in concentration costs him--or rather, it costs Milora, whose foot he steps on yet again. Syton turns back to her quickly and frowns. "Sorry," he mutters. "I'll get it eventually... though you'll probably need new boots by then." "Aha! I figured you might try and escape from your dance. Very well, go say inappropriate things to Amalai ... and give her my regards." Milora gives an inclination of her head, chuckling, and then smiles at Syton. "You're already better than when you started. It doesn't hurt and it isn't an annoyance - relax!" "Light keep you two. I will say hello." Lucius inclines his head and shuffles off to the south, and the Freelander district. Syton watches Lucius off quietly before turning back to Milora. A frown creases his lips. "You know," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "telling someone to relax doesn't really help them to relax, no matter how lovely the speaker." "Telling someone that they are lovely is the least effective way to convince them that they are lovely," Milora returns, her brow creasing slightly. She stops and puts her hands on Syton's upper arms, shaking her head. "I don't mean to push you. I was just in such a good mood." "I noticed," Syton replies, releasing a long, enervated breath. He scratches the back of his head and looks away from Milora for a moment. "I'm in a foul mood tonight," he observes. "I shouldn't be bringing you down, but well..." Syton heaves his shoulders dismissively. "Anyway, I'm sorry." "You seemed so natural when we first met," protests Milora, suddenly looking rather ashamed of herself. "Please tell me what is bothering you." She sighs, furrowing her eyebrows. Syton shakes his head slowly and takes a little step back from Milora. "We weren't dancing when we first met," he counters, laughing it off for a few moments. The silence that follows is broken by a more substantive answer. "You found direction," he says, frowning a little. Well, that does nothing for Milora's mood. Pink in the face, she lifts a hand and covers her lips, listening to him quietly. "I am going to study. I mean to improve myself. ... Master Temple, I am so sorry." "Mily, no..." Syton shakes his head to her emphatically. "Don't apologize to me, please. Just listen." He takes a step closer to her, meeting her gaze earnestly. "Direction ill-considered is a dangerous thing, Mily. Possibly the /most/ dangerous thing. So, please, be /careful/." Her lips twitch, but she nods her head in repsonse to him and sighs gently. "You can hardly know how much I appreciate your concern, Syton," she says quietly. "You always know exactly what to say." There's a pause, and she frowns sincerely at him. "I would like to speak with you tomorrow. Do you mean to stay nearby a little longer? ... I am afraid that we should almost adjourn for the night." "In short, yes. I will be here tomorrow." Syton nods to Milora slowly, his eyes wandering up and down the street. "And, Light willing, tomorrow shall find me in a lighter mood." ---- ''Return to Season 6 (2007) Category:Logs